


Replace This Prototype

by CionAltima



Series: RK1700cember [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, RK1700cember
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28677555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CionAltima/pseuds/CionAltima
Summary: Specially ordered and prototype androids had hard to find parts, but being only one of the two active RK800 Connor was at an even more disadvantage to finding replacement parts if something were to happen.
Relationships: Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900
Series: RK1700cember [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098449
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10
Collections: RK1700 December 2020





	Replace This Prototype

**Author's Note:**

> Haha super late working on prompts for uh...the 1700 December prompt list, prompt #4 Broken

The fact that Connor was a prototype rarely came up in his day to day routine. There were small reminders here and there of course, but they never bothered him. One of his favorite things between himself and Nines was seeing the stark contrast between their chassis whenever they held each other’s hand. Connor had been built with the traditional white and grey chassis whereas the RK900 line had been a bit more experimental. Having the durability and strength exceeding that of a TR400 combined with the flexibility to put the HR400 to shame the chassis was of course state of the art and pitch black.

Specially ordered and prototype androids had hard to find parts, but being only one of the two active RK800 Connor was at an even more disadvantage to finding replacement parts if something were to happen. Even with his diligent weekly maintenance and calibrations Connor was beginning to wear down after about three years still working in law enforcement and liaison for New Jericho.

The first time he’d been severely injured on the job the technicians had to substitute internal parts with other models most compatible. It wasn’t the most ideal. Calibrations were slowing, reaction time was only noticeable to Connor, and any sort of intimacy with Nines left him feeling over taxed on all his systems. It wasn’t anything that Connor couldn’t deal with though. Of course there was always bound to be unpredictable events given the unpredictability of life in general. 

Laying on the wet grimy black top of a parking lot heaving as his thirium pump thundered in his autoreceptors Connor could only wonder if he had watered the ivy plant he and Nines had bought as their one year anniversary. Nines, rA9 Nines was going to kill him when he found out the risk he’d taken. What mattered though was the kid was safe. He managed to register that information as Hank frankly spoke to him. 

When had he leaned over, oh he was elevated in the man’s lap. Attempting to brush Hank’s tears away Connor could only manage a grumble as nothing but errors clouded his vision, alerting him that from his forearm down his arm was nonfunctioning. Well, more than just that. What had happened again? Why was he designed with lungs? His chest burned with each breath sending bursts of air to cool his system, or attempted too. Instead each heave just caused air to hiss out through his damaged chassis. The buckshot had done a number on him.

“Connor stay with me!” Hank said straining at the end as his grip tightened around Connor’s shoulders. He’d called for an emergency technician and for Nines and now all he could do was wait. Quitting the force together was right for them and focusing instead on becoming Private Eyes for those who were let down by the system. Following their lead through the building they hadn’t expected, no he should have anticipated this. He had years under his belt and now the man had gotten away and Connor was bleeding everywhere. “Nines is on his way. Technicians will get here first. Until he gets here I’ll make sure there’s no funny business.”

He was rambling. For Connor or himself he didn’t really know, probably both. Everything was numb as the minutes ticked by and finally help arrived. All the motions, just going through the motions. Shotgun, fired fire times, damaged to the left arm, torso, right leg. He was lucky, Connor wasn’t. The animalistic cry of anguish from Nines as soon as he saw the state of his lover sent chills down Hanks spine. Connor was more the physical comfort type. Nines, lord he didn’t know how to offer support to him.

“Just be by his side. He’ll be ok. They’ll get him patched up.” Hank said as Connor was lifted up on a stretcher. Hearing Nines rambling his brows knit up in confusion. Replaced parts already? Deteriorating? “Whoa hang in there Nines. What do you mean deteriorating?”

“There are no replacing parts Hank!” Nines lashed out, LED a steady strobe light of red a stark contrast to his unchanging impassive look, the result of Cyberlife deeming facial emoting for military grade androids to be useless. “There’s only Connor. Two RK800s walking around. There are compatible components, but that’s a temporary fix. He, he lied. He said he was fine.”

Jumping into the ambulance Nines yanks Hank in before they leave. Connor would want them both with him. If he ever woke again. Gripping Connor’s one good hand Nines can’t stop his strangled sob, hiding his face in his other hand as the technicians did their best to make Connor comfortable. There wasn’t anything else to do. Connor wouldn’t last the night.


End file.
